


The Delphinestrian: Part One

by Rubynye



Series: The Delphinestrian: Purimgifts 2020 [1]
Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Collection: Purimgifts Day 1, F/M, Fanart, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:20:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22996084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: Palae loved his Mother and his Mother loved the Sea.
Relationships: Leucothea & Palaemon
Series: The Delphinestrian: Purimgifts 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1652668
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6
Collections: Purimgifts 2020





	The Delphinestrian: Part One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ariestess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/gifts).



> For Ariestess in the 2020 Purim Gifts Celebration!

Palae loved his Mother and his Mother loved the Sea.

Each day when the Sun shone bright, they’d walk to the gardens after supper. Mother would hum sweetly as she gathered herbs and fruits, and he clutched her skirt and toddled in her scented wake. Draping her mantle into a pouch, they’d climb down the rocky sea-steps, his free hand folded into hers, until the square steps gave way to flat pebbles, and then the pebbles surrendered to the Sea. There they cast each blossom and leaf and berry one by one into the rolling waves, as Mother sang and Palae sang with her, praising the Sea for Its beauty, calling to Its lords and ladies for their strength and friendship.

Then she would smile upon him, brighter than the Sun sinking into the far edge of the waters, and she would lead him back up the sea-steps, towards the Palace and home and bed. And if Palae’s legs ached and his arms and head grew heavy, Mother would scoop him up into her arms, her breath puffing out between her lips, and let him lay his cheek to her shoulder as she climbed more slowly up the sea-stairs, as the Sea sparkled in his sight till his lids fell shut.

As Palae grew his legs grew with him, so that more and more often Mother could lead him the whole way back up the sea-steps, and when they’d reach the top she’d clap and say, “You climbed them all! My big brave boy!” Father would tousle his hair as they came back in, and see that he was given more meat or fish or cheese at supper. So Palae took to saving a slice or a bone as he might, and when he and Mother walked down singing to the Sea, his offering nestled among her blossoms and herbs. 

That was when the dolphins came to them, once and twice upon uncommon days, then more often until almost every night, swimming close to seize the savory morsels, leaping gleaming from the glittering sea in thanks. Palae laughed his delight in them, and Mother laughed and clapped her hands, and he had to glance at himself to see if his heart shone out from behind his skin with all his happiness. 

Then one day all the Palace bustled, and Palae saw Mother only briefly at noontide, and the serving ladies brought his supper and laid him to bed. The next day Mother woke him early, combed his hair till his head hurt, then kissed his head’s top and told him he was most brave. So he didn’t scowl, and then when she brought forth a new tunic for him striped with purple and red he jumped and shouted.

It was a festival day, sacred to the Queen of The Sky, and Mother and Palae stood or sat behind Father as he governed the festivities. It was later than usual, pink and blue rising in the Eastern sky, when Mother led Palae to the garden. They gathered fewer flowers than their usual, and he had been hungry after all the dedications before supper and so forgot to save his offering.

As they hurried towards the Sea-steps, an unfamiliar young Palace-lady stepped to meet them, a peacock-feather bobbing up over her braided hair. “My Lady Leucothea,” she said to Mother, “come in for the nightfall libations.”

“They may go on without me,” Mother answered, one foot upon the second step. The palace-lady shook her feather-topped head, her mouth crimped tight, and Mother smiled, waving her away, saying, “Surely our Great Lady will not begrudge.”

So they went down to the Sea, but their hands were empty before their songs were finished, and the dolphins stayed far off, and when they turned back Night was spreading spangled dark above them and the Steps lay in shadow. But oxen plodded towards them, drawing a cart sent by Father to bring them home! Palae jumped and cheered, and Mother smiled, but her brow creased like the ripples across the Sea and she sat silently the whole way along the Sea Road back up the mountainside to the Palace. 

The next two days it rained, and the Sea lay grey as stone along the base of the cliffs. Then the Sun charged through on the third morning, and Mother smiled bright, and though Father was not at supper Palae hardly minded for he was given two whole fish, plenty to eat and plenty to offer. The garden rustled with growth around them, and they had so much to bring to the Sea that evening that they cast their gifts into the waters past the end of their songs, so Mother sang the last refrain, “Lend us Your Holy Friendship,” thrice. She seemed to glow as they turned towards the Sea-steps, and wrapped her arm around Palae in a sweet squeeze before leading him up the Steps.

As they crested the top Father came forth from the Palace to meet them, but he was not himself. His head was down between his rearing shoulders, his brow low and ridged, and he snorted like an angry bull, and when he raised his hands Palae saw them filled with daggers like claws, gleaming bronze dripping red blood.

Mother screamed.

Father rushed at them, bellowing, knife-filled hands outthrust. 

Mother gripped Palae’s hand, dragging him with her as she fled before Father’s onslaught, but he stumbled and fell and Father came at them like a hungry beast, his eyes narrow and bloodshot red.

Mother screamed and pulled Palae from the ground, up onto and half over her shoulder as she ran and Father ran at them, nearer and nearer, white froth around his panting mouth. Mother stumbled too, and Palae clutched her around her neck, staring at Father’s hands full of bloody knives, and never saw Mother’s path until they flew out into the air, turning, tumbling, until upside-down he saw the rising Sea.


End file.
